Nana's New Life
by The Goddamn Duck
Summary: A vacant lot. A half-dead girl. Two mercenaries on their night out. Life gets very strange from there on out... possibly the most unlikely TF2 crossover imaginable. In-progress, updating slowly. Chapter three up.
1. How the Lot Bloomed

Nana's New Life

How the Lot Bloomed

By the Goddamn Duck

(Author's Note: This was first published on 4chan's Traditional Games board, /tg/. The thread which it originally came from is archived on SupTG; while linking appears to be disallowed, a quick search will bring it up. This story is a crossover of Team Fortress 2 - arguably the best FPS of all time - and Nana's Everyday Life - _definitively_ the most depressing web manga of all time. The result is - to me, at least - rather interesting. I hope you enjoy it.)

_"DOCTOR!"_

They couldn't even go through a night out without being attacked. The German sighed, picking up his heels. His Russian friend was without his weapons tonight - except for his fists, of course - but the Medic? He was not so unprepared. His medigun was folded in his briefcase, along with his syringe gun - yes, the gentleman looked a bit odd carrying a briefcase around with him to a bar, but better to be prepared.

And yet, he was completely unprepared for what he saw.

The six-and-a-half foot mountain of a man was kneeling in a dirty lot off of an alleyway, clutching a tiny figure. A mop of pink hair sprouted from her head, along with what looked like two horns. She had lost an eye, and her other wounds were badly bandaged; the girl was an amputee, no limbs remaining. She was wrapped in a filthy blanket, completely unresponsive in the huge man's arms. He stared, gawking. There was nothing else in the alleyway... just a few bits of trash, and what looked like a hastily dug grave for a pet. A bit of fur poked out from the pile of dirt.

"Mein Gott."

"She... she is dying... please, doctor!" He thrust out the girl, his face frantic - desperate. The Medic bit his lip - the girl's skin was bluish, her breathing shallow... his friend's diagnosis was right. She was barely hanging on to life. He didn't know how extensive her wounds were, but...

"Hold her out." He flipped open the case, tugging out his medigun, and started to fiddle with the various dials on the back - turning them all to MAXIMUM.

"I haff been zapped by the heal-gun before-"

"Not like zis. Even if zis works, I cannot predict ze side effects." He nodded, and the man held her, almost reluctantly, at arms length.

The blast of energies was visible from the street. Police showed up twenty minutes later, looking for someone playing with illegal fireworks.

The intercom buzzed, and with a grunt, he reached over, thwacking the panel.

"What?"

"GET YOUR BLOODY ARSE OUT OF BED! WE GOT AN EMERGENCY OUT HERE!" The Engineer grumbled, slowly slogging to his feet. Midnight. The ceasefire was 7 hours ago... BLU wouldn't do anything this late. Idiots that they were, they respected the rules. He tugged on his goggles, yawning as he flipped the lights on, heading to the central room, pistol in hand. He expected a warzone. What he got was an operating room.

The Demo and Soldier were hunched over, staring at the operating table that had been wheeled out. The Heavy wasn't there - probably in the bathroom, from the sounds of the retching - and the Scout... he was a wreck. Had his rosary out for maybe the third time since they'd been there, and was mumbling Hail Mary's in the corner.

"Doc?" He mumbed, as he finally caught sight of the patient. A child. The doctor had rigged up a medigun to give a constant stream onto her, a sort of makeshift life support - and he was on his third one, judging by the two burnt out husks in the corner.

"She's fading." He said, a cold statement, determination etched into his face beneath the paper mask. "Liver is failing, heart on the way out. I need help."

"What... but..."

"Prosthesis."

"Iron lung?"

"Anything!" A pause, and he nodded. He was a fixer. He fixed problems... made right things that were wrong.

He could do this.

The mediguns were cannibalized, along with two dispensers and the delicate spring relays from one of the spare grenade launchers. Casings were thrown together, a pacemaker assembled - the liver was "installed" first, a new kidney, a bloated appendix cut out.

Night passed. Day came.

And she was still breathing.

The oxygen tent was in place, her tiny body cavity sewn up.

She was alive. Barely. But still alive. The demoman had fallen asleep around 3, but the rest of the team was awake. The Sniper had doffed his hat to the poor girl, but had remained passive - distant. For the moment, anyhow. The Spy had vented a bit of rage as to how anyone could do that to an innocent, but had lapsed into silence for fear that the girl would be awoken by his rant. And the Pyro... he just stared at her...

They were tired, bedraggled, and drained. Nine men who were accustomed to making jokes of blowing the living shit out of others... but how long had it been since they had a civilian casualty? They were up against a team that would be resurrected, the same as themselves - their war was a sport, a great bloodstained joke.

This was the first bit of mind-numbing reality that had shattered their comfortably separate existence.

Of course, it was then that the klaxon went off - the BLU team was attacking.

The power flickered as an explosion rocked the building - they were targeting the generator. The Engineer bit his lip.

"Sonnuvamother..." He mumbled. "She's still fragile... we can't risk a-"

"I'm on it!" There was the sound of two cans popping open, as the Scout slammed down each in turn. Fueled by the atomic energy drink, he hurled himself through the fortress, grabbing three items, and back out the door before the pre-recorded "PROTECT THE BRIEFCASE!" screamed over the loudspeakers.

He emerged, still in his pajamas, charging across the field towards the shocked BLU forces, dark bags under his eyes, devoid of his trademark cap. Every fiber of his being was etched with the words "don't fuck with me, because last night I have seen a tiny slice of hell." The BLU Sniper gawked, forcing himself to hold onto his enlarged bladder - he had fought against RED for two years now, but he had never seen anything this frightening.

Despite the fact that the Scout was unarmed.

The briefcase in one arm.

A stick with a white T-shirt tied to it in the other.

Dodging bullets... rockets... needles... he peeled to a stop in front of the BLU jeep, and slammed the intel into the hood, denting it. Shocked, his old enemies just stared as he opened it, swiveling it around and displaying it. Not a bomb. Not a trap. Just the intel.

"Take it. Get out of here. I don't want you back here for the next week, got it?"

"What?" There was a few moments of silence. The Scout's rush wore off, leaving him panting for air - he had only big-gulped two cans of Bonk once before, and there was a reason he never did.

"Look... just take it, aright? There... there's a kid in there!" A pause.

"We can just kill you and not the child, you know." The BLU Spy eyed him, amused.

"Yeah, well, we don't wanna take that chance, right? So get outta here. You wanna off me, you gotta free shot here. I'll be back in a minute, you know? She... she ain't gonna be back. She's hurt."

"You brought a civilian into a warzone? What kind of outfit are you people running over here?" The Soldier was almost laughing.

"The kind that just saved a freakin' kid's life, aright? Give us a break here..." He slumped. "Look... I'm done here. Get going. We're not fighting."

The bullet was expected, the young man's head dissolving into a geyser. The withdrawal made it worth while. The power continued to flicker for an hour, until the Engineer got it under control.

The day wore on in relative silence.

Her eyes fluttered. She was on a bed. Not the ground. There was something... music. Guitar. She hadn't heard music like that before. It was nice. Was she... where was she? Nana slowly sat up, groaning. She hurt all over, but it wasn't as bad as it usually was, and her legs-

She had legs.

The little girl's eyes popped open. Gasping, Tears came to her eyes as she stared down. They were like doll legs - she had something like skin, but her joints were reddish balls. She didn't really have toes... but... but she had...

"I HAVE ARMS!" She squeaked. Nana barely registered the sound of a chair scraping across the floor, but she did hear the low, hushed, almost stern voice that came after it.

"You're up."

"I have arms again!" She turned, waving her arms wildly, still crying. "Someone gave me arms!"

"Yep. They won't grow, but they'll do. You'll need new ones in a few years."

"You... you..." She lapsed into silence as the man approached her. He was tallish, and wore weird glasses, and was bald. As soon as he was close, she leaned forward, almost falling out of bed, latching onto him in a bearhug.

"Hey... it's alright, kid. You're going to be okay." He scruffed her hair, the faintest trace of a smile crossing his face. She sniffled and nodded, but didn't budge. A few seconds passed, and the embrace didn't loosen one bit.

"Eh... you can.. you can let go... I kinda gotta..."

"I haven't hugged anything in a while. Can I have a few more seconds?" He paused, failed to say a few things, and let himself relax a little bit.

"Baby is comfortable?"

"Yes!" She thrust a triumphant fist into the air.

"Hokay! Time to make sandvich!" With the girl on his shoulders, the Heavy started to assemble their lunch. He had taken to an almost fatherly role - or a big brother, perhaps. Maybe he felt that if he was with the girl, he could protect her better. It was hard to say. Engie liked her, obviously, insisting on making sure that she came by for regular checks on her new limbs until "the bugs were worked out". For the antisocial engineer, that meant something. The Scout and Soldier tended to treat her like a mascot, the Demoman like a pleasant nuisance, and the remaining members with pleasant indifference. The Medic just saw her as a job well done, it seemed. The Pyro... he just... didn't go near her. He was always a bit distant, and now, not even his stupid prankishness popped in.

Even the BLU assaults became a part of the everyday existence - new autosealing doors on the barracks meant that she could be safe during the raids, and while no one liked the other team, they trusted them not to assault a little girl directly. A month passed, and life moved on.

No one expected the visit.

The Administrator was there. Nana had heard her name from the others, and she knew she didn't like her very much. She yelled a lot - she was scary. There was a lot she didn't understand... then Tavish came in. She smiled hopefully, as the big, black guy motioned for her to be quiet.

"C'mon, lass. We're gettin' out of here." He whispered.

"What? Why-"

"Just fer a bit. Ye really don' need to be around for this. Besides... we're all moving out here after a while."

"Oh!" She nodded, as they snuck from her room. They had to sneak by the main room on the way out, but they could get out through the kitchen so they wouldn't be seen in the hallway. As they walked, she could hear them again.

"...VERY disappointed in this... this unauthorized FILCHING of company property! Did you really think that we wouldn't find the stolen diclonius?" She paused, taking a long breath. "We will be taking her back to the R&D complex at once."

"The R&D complex, eh?" The Engineer's voice. "So, the same complex where she was amputated, practically disemboweled, and-"

"The experiments performed were not finished when she was released." A chuckle. "Besides... her... Papa is waiting for her." Nana froze, staring up at the Demo. He motioned for her to keep quiet again, but moved a bit faster.

"Uh huh. And if we refuse?"

"Did you forget? You're an employee of RED. You belong to us... "

"As much as an independent contractor with a pay-by-engagement contract can belong to you." The Sniper's voice was tinged with disgust. "And frankly, I'm of the mind to take the early buy-out option, take my pension, and leave."

"You do realize that this... black spot on your record... will follow you for the rest of your life. Wherever you go. There's nowhere that RED's influence doesn't penetrate, you kno-"

"Save the threats, bitchcakes. There's a difference between working for a fuckin' global monopoly and workin' for... for... fuckin' Girl Hitler! Aright? The girl's stayin' here." The Scout's voice cracked mid-rant. There was the sudden sound of whirring, and a collected exclamation that cannot be summarized here from the team.

"Are you -quite- sure, gentlemen?" A moment later, the room erupted into gunfire. For two minutes, there was nothing but the sound of explosions... and then it was over.

"What... what was that?" Nana whimpered. The Demoman grinned.

"The best way to hand in yer resignation from a job, lass. Come on." The team was... alive. All of them. The Administrator hadn't been able to disable the Respawn Engine, thanks to the Engineer's tweaks. The two men - some sort of sentry-robots in the guise of men - were nothing more than smoking craters, and the Administrator herself was a gory smear on the floor.

"So... where now?" The words from the Medic cut the almost-triumphant mood at the knees.

Nana looked around frantically. The men were all serious. Calm, but serious.

"I... I didn't mean to be any trouble! You... I... I could have..."

"NO!" The Heavy's voice was firm. He stepped over the shrapnel, sweeping the girl up. "Good girls should not be put with bad men like that. We did what we had to do, baby. No tears."

"Hm. RED is everywhere... BLU won't want us..."

"Nowhere on earth to run from `em." The Scout kicked a fragment of skull across the floor.

"So... we don't run." The Engineer's jaw was set, his fists clenched. "We take the fight to `em. We make `em leave us alone, or we take `em down."

"Oh, shit! That simple, eh Captain Genius?"

"Whh sthh nd hh hdkttths!" The Pyro barked. "Nhhd h plhhs to rhhghhp!"

"Asbestos boy's gotta point. Come on. Let's get out of here..."

"Heh. Alone in the world, against impossible odds, fighting for a chunk of the American Dream... reminds me of when I stormed the Nazi death camps at Ferrichund." The Soldier rambled on as they walked to the motor pool.

Thirty minutes later, three vehicles rolled off, loaded with enough hardware to wage a small war, and a small girl that - for now - was actually safe, surrounded by people who cared about her.

Nana didn't have a happy ending. Not yet. But with men like this... she had a bit of hope.

And meanwhile, the rest of the world forgot... except for the alleyway, where barren soil sprouted a tiny eden from the rays of an overclocked medigun.

The world is run by two holding corporations - Rapid Excavation Demolition and Builders League United, RED and BLU. What problems between these companies that cannot be solved with bureaucracy is solved with violence. Nine mercenaries from the RED corporation, nine men with the destructive capacity of a small army, fended off the advances of BLU for years - until they discovered the atrocities that their company was responsible for.

Through a freak happenstance, the RED Team came across Nana, a biologically engineered girl who was a guinea pig for RED's R&D department. A quadruple amputee, organs harvested and left for dead, the boys of the RED Team fixed her. Put her back together. Gave her a home.

And when RED came to collect the girl... they quit. Forcibly.

Now, they're on the run, waging war against the company that was responsible for Nana's torture, and trying to give the girl some semblance of a life of her own.

This is their story.  
============


	2. The Week

Nana's New Life

The Week

(Author's Note: The following scenes take place in the week of downtime between the RED and BLU teams, and are presented in no particular order. This was first published on 4chan's Traditional Games board, and the thread in which it was first presented has been archived at SupTG; a brief search for the tag "nana" will bring it up. )

The sniper hummed tunelessly to the AM radio as his camper trundled along the desert highway. He needed to pick up some supplies - and beer - and Nana had begged him to let her come along. He figured that she just wanted some time away from the compound... he could empathize with that, at least. The same four walls all day long tended to give a body a terrible twitch. The little girl was peering out the window with her one good eye - Engie still hadn't managed to get a working replacement mocked up yet - her stubby little prosthetic fingers wrapped around the inch of glass that would never quite roll down into the door.

"It's so... big."

"The desert?"

"Yeah!" She gawked openly, beaming. "I can see forever!"

"Not really. Take a look up ahead."

"Huh? Okay. What should Nana look for?" The girl was getting better about using "I" instead of "Nana", but she still slipped every now and then.

"See that big spire off in the distance... the one with the boulder beside it?" Nana squinted.

"Yes!"

"We're going to have to pass that by to get to the store. Can you see it?" She squinted harder... and harder... and grunted.

"Nnnnno!"

"Exactly. That's why I have to stick a scope on my..." He trailed off. Damn. He loved his job, but it was so... awkward explaining it.

"On your gun, right?" Nana got a little quieter, but she was still enjoying the view.

"...right." He sighed. A few seconds passed before he spoke again. "Not gonna ask why I have to shoot people, then?"

"No, Tavish explained that to me."

"Tav..." The Demoman. He'd had to work with him for almost a year before he learned his name, and the girl had gotten it out of him in two days. "So what did he say?"

"Well, he said that you're fighting a war..."

"Right."

"...but you don't die forever if you get killed, because of something Engie made..."

"Right again."

"...so it's really more like a really long game that hurts a lot when you lose." A pause. "Like boxing, but with explosions!" He laughed. Damn... that cut through the awkwardness pretty well.

"That's about the size of it." A minute passed. The radio popped and hissed as the song ended, and an ad for Blue Streak Beer came on. Nana flicked his bobblehead a few times, giggling when the head made rattling noises.

"Tavish also told me why you spend so long in the bathroom every day-"

"HO-kay, rather not talk about that..."

"But I wanna do that! I could be like a superhero!"

"No, you really don't-"

"POW! Yellow justice, evildoer!" She giggled. Great. Just what he needed... another person jabbing him about his insult of choice.

A day earlier, in the evening...  
===============

"Ooh, that was a good one!"

"Hold on, wait `til you see this one."

"Ahhhh..."

"Heh. Liked that, did ye?"

"How did you get it to do that?"

"I'll show ye later. Had to save me beer cans for a week. Wait.. hold it... here comes-"

"WOW!"

"AHAAAhahahaa!" The light from the detonation illuminated their faces again. The Demoman was the one member of the team that wasn't having any problems, technical or ethical, with explaining his job to the kid. After all, kids love watching stuff blow up.

And while a detonating yard full of old cars, furniture, and other various incendiary sundries was hardly a fireworks display, it was certainly a lot more dramatic.

"Can I set one off?"

"Ach. They're on a timed fuse. Nothin' left to set off."

"Aww! Maybe next time."

"Why did you fix my legs, anyway?" Nana seemed almost pensive today as the Engineer peeled back the synthetic "skin" on her left leg. There were no touch receptors inside her leg, just on the surface, so it felt weird, like her leg was nothing more than a sheet of floppy rubber from the knee down. The engineer scooted back, silent for a few seconds, the only sound the radio behind him. It was usually on - whenever he wasn't playing guitar himself, or too lost in thought to pay attention to anything else. He retrieved a needlenose plier, and adjusted a few wires before answering.

"You've been around here for a while now." 'Here' meaning 'his workshop'. He never said 'here' when he meant the compound, or the kitchen, or anywhere else. Nana nodded. "Then you've been listening, right?" He cocked his head towards the radio. Nana nodded again. "Remember the Man in Black?"

"Right! Um... Jimmy Cash?"

"Johnny. Right." He set down the pliers, and slowly sealed up the skin, gingerly, as if he was dealing with actual flesh instead of a dense polymer. "Why did he make himself that stage persona, as far as you can tell?"

"Huh?" Right, dumb it down, dumb it down.

"Why is he the Man in Black?"

"To... remind people of the bad stuff, right?"

"Exactly. When you know about problems, you can fix them. He's put his whole life behind that." He squirted a bit of bonding agent along the seam, and eyed his work. It would take a minute to set up again, but she'd be good as new. Better. He was damn proud of those legs... the arms, less so, but they were doing the job. "So why do you think he did that?"

"Um..." She trailed off. "...because... he's trying to be good?"

"More or less." He stood, his back popping a few times. The girl hopped to her feet, landing on his toes - thank God for steel-toed boots - and quickly scampered over to one side. "It's what we were put here to do. Fix things. Simple as that..." He didn't quite smile - that was good, because it was a little bit scary when he did - but he patted her head. "It's the secret of life, right there."

"Huh." She nodded. "Papa used to say it was mitosis." Something boiled inside the engineer for a moment... he'd heard her talking about her "papa" before. Hell, one of the first things she asked him when he was working on those legs the first day was if he was going to touch her... -there-. A bilious taste rose in his mouth as he shoved the thought aside.

"Nana..."

"Yes?"

"Do me a favor?"

"Sure!" She smiled widely.

"Don't... ever talk about that man again."

"Huh? Okay... but why?"

"Because..." He stopped short. Because he was still out there. Because he was still hurting others. Because he was a problem that was beyond his...

No. He fixed death. Twice. As long as he had some backup, there was no problem he couldn't fix. This "papa" was just one to stick on his list... one to make damn sure he took care of.

"Engie?"

"Because... he's a bad memory. I don't like seeing you sad." He smiled, and this time, it wasn't that scary.  
======

"Why are you not running around like a little puppy dog with the other child?" The Spy took a last drag on his Parliament and put out the stub. She had been playing baseball with the Scout - or Pitch-and-hit, really - for the last few hours. He thought that it was a crime that she didn't know about the universe's greatest sport, and she was just happy to have someone to play with.

"He's getting lunch." The insult flew over her head. "Hey, why do you wear that mask all the time?"

"My head gets cold. It is the same reason why I leave my jacket on most of the time." He considered a second smoke and passed, turning to walk inside.

"In the desert?"

"I worked as a baker's apprentice for years. The ovens were blistering hot... eventually, I felt a little chilly when I wasn't around them." Nana blinked a few times, and nodded.

"Huh!" She still got a little spooked around ovens... it was understandable, but since the Heavy insisted on giving her cooking lessons, they'd been having sandwich... or "sandvich", as the girl insisted on copying his accent... dinners for the last four days. Nana was sucked into his casual lie, the girl taking it at face value. "Where was that?"

"San Sebastian, in Spain."

"I thought you were French!"

"I am, but in my youth, I traveled most of Europe."

"Have you ever been to Latveria?"

"Most of the Soviet states were-" He paused. Shit. "Latveria?"

"Yeah! The place that Doctor Doom comes from!"

"...the Scout is already poisoning your mind with his asinine comic books?"

"Asiwhat? No, we're just reading Fantastic Four and Jimmy Olsen."

"...sacre..." He mumbled something under his breath. At least he could try to start her on something respectable. Like Tintin. Or The Wizard of Id. "Latveria isn't a real place."

"Huh. The Scout's gonna be disappointed." He decided not to probe into that comment - it was likely she just misinterpreted his comments regarding the comics as reality. There was no way he was dumb enough to...

...yes, yes, he was.

"At least he hasn't started you on Archie yet..."

"You know, you and the rest of the team are kind of like superheroes anyway."

"What?" He laughed openly, intensely amused. Only a child could see his little band of mercenaries as heroic.

"Yeah! You've got Super Speedy Guy, the Incredible Punch, the Fix-Master..." She counted them off on her fingers. "Cyclops McBoomBoom, the Sergeant, Doctor Healgun, Burny, and Yellow Justice!" He almost burst out laughing again at Yellow Justice, but held his laughter.

"And that makes me the Invisible Man?"

"Or Mr. Mask. I haven't decided yet."

"Hm. I did pick up a new mask now that you're around..." His form shimmered and wavered, and then Nana was looking at... herself?

"WOW!" She reached forward and poked her doppleganger's head... only to feel the Spy's knee.

"Not bad, eh?"

"Not at all, Mr. Mask!" She grinned. "Hey, can I borrow one of your masks for a while?" He peeled off the Nana mask and handed her one - a mask of the Heavy.

"Just leave it on my door when you're done." She grinned, running off with the flat thing tied around her face.

Of course, the mask was useless without the rest of the equipment hidden on his person... but she was having such fun, he didn't want to spoil it. And besides, it gave him another few moments of precious solitude before someone else butted in.

She wasn't human. That much was clear. Abundantly clear. She had neural structures that were entirely too complex, although they looked half-formed and dormant, and she had several redundant organs - many of which had been harvested. She was down to one kidney when they found her, and from the looks of it, she was born... or made... with six. The Medic set down the X-rays, filing them away. Mysteries for another time...

"Ze prosthetics are holding well. No rejection, und no traces of infection." A pause. "How old are you? I cannot tell from ze development."

"Nana... I... I'm not sure." He had corrected her about pronoun use a dozen times since she had woken up, almost reflexively, and she was starting to pick it up. Slowly. "...ten?" If she was ten, she was a bit underdeveloped for ten. There seemed to be gaps in Nana's memory, places where she should remember things, but didn't. Just as well, he supposed.

"Hm. And haff you ever seen anything unusual happen around you? Mm? Anything... unexplainable? Bizzare?" He picked up his mirror and flashed a light into her eye, holding the lid open gently. It dilated properly, shrinking to a pinprick.

"Um... well... lots of bad things..."

"Not ze bad things, not those." He mumbled. "Things that could not happen that did."

"Um.. no?" She flinched as her other eye was examined. "I don't think so."

"No heads flying off? No random body part explosions?"

"No!"

"No flying? No teleportation?"

"SHOULD that happen?" Nana gawked, her mouth hanging open, staring at the Doctor. He blinked twice.

"Well, you're getting to puberty, and it is a very special time in a young woman's..." He paused. "...no, not really. Just making sure."

Well... that went well. She was almost shaking in fear. Time to distract her.

"Say 'ah'!" Her mouth was already open. He plunked a tongue depressor in, staring down her throat as she managed an 'aaaaa...' "Oh, my. Zis is worrying."

"Eh?"

"Zis cannot be. Zis... zis..."

"EHHHH?"

"Zis is the throat of a girl who has not had a lollypop in ages!" He grabbed one from the jar beside him with a dramatic flourish, handing it to her. She stared at the sweet, blinking. "Take two before bed tonight and check in with me tomorrow."

"That... that was a joke, right?"

"Yes."

"So I'm not going to explode from not eating lollypops?"

"No... no, that vas just my strange sense of humor."

"Oh." A long pause as she peeled the wrapper off the lolly and licked it a few times. Butterscotch... mm. "You're sure?"

"I'm positive. I vas just trying to be funny. I promise I won't do that during exams again, okay?"

"As long as Nana knows you're playing, it's fine." He bit down the automatic reflex, the urge to correct her once more.

"Fine, fine. Run along, then. Dinner is coming soon." Well... crisis averted. He'd have to be more careful about how he brought it up later. There was more to that girl than anyone suspected... as long as no one was hurt by it, it was fine. But still... such a wonderful little mystery. He had to figure out what those extra cerebral structures were for!

She made him itch. He didn't like being reminded of his past... especially not in such a forward way. But perhaps it was unavoidable now. Definitely if the Engineer had anything to say about it. You didn't get in the way of a borderline psychotic, polygnostic Texan. The others wouldn't miss him. He disappeared for days at a time sometimes... the Spy, that was another matter. At least he had the excuse of running some recon. And there he was... barreling across the desert atop a stolen BLU jeep, still in the guise of the Demoman from earlier. He threw up the high-sign, and the Pyro relaxed a little. Definitely not a BLU trick. The vehicle skidded to a stop, the Spy peeling off his mask as he exited the vehicle, handing him a stack of files.

"You were right. The girl is definitely from the same facility."

"Mhh mtrhmmnng mhmmmrds!"

"You can take off that ridiculous mask, you know. It's not like we're in combat... and I've already seen what's under there." The black synthetic was torn aside, revealing a terrible mess of burn scars.

"Fair `nuff."

"Hm. RED has been pouring funding into the facility for the last few years at an alarming rate, but I could not determine what they have gotten out of it."

"Probably nothing yet..."

"You think that they are still stalled?"

"They didn't make much progress with their earlier products."

"True!" He snorted. "But that's not the really interesting bit. Look at this."

"What?"

"On that ledger, right there."

"Wow."

"Interesting, isn't it?"

"A standing five thousand dollar tab from the Cinema 9? Who watches that many movies?"

"The other column, nimrod! There!" He stamped his gloved finger down, and the Pyro's red, bleary eyes widened.

"BLU?"

"He's drawing funding from them on the side." It was an entry from the Binski corporation, a BLU shell. A very well known BLU shell.

"How doesn't the brass know about this?"

"Perhaps they do. Perhaps his work is that valuable to them." A pause. "Or perhaps he is just that careful with what he gives to his superiors."

"This doesn't make sense."

"Of course it does. Look at our intel. Our company officially knows nothing about the facility, and so we have to raid BLU's intelligence to find out about it. Perhaps the morons on the other side don't know about this?"

"Maybe." He groaned, rubbing his head. Espionage wasn't his strong suit. "You know, I'm still shocked that it hasn't been shut down-"

"Not every escape can be as disastrous as yours."

"Heh. True, that." He grinned, showing off a mouthful of cracked teeth.

"I have to get going. The Soldier requires these schematics."

"Right. I'll see you back at base." He patted the jeep, and went back to the papers. Nine years. Nine years since he had escaped in much the same way the girl had... although he had managed to rewire the disposal oven to explode instead of baking him to a charred husk. Probably why they had taken her limbs off first - they had learned from him.

Not that he was anything impressive... he smirked as he ran a finger across one of the blackened stubs where a horn had been, before pulling his mask back on. All these years, and all he could do was to make a tiny wisp of flame, far inferior to his beloved flamethrower.

He could understand why Nana was scared of him. After his own escape, he had been terrified of fire for years. But she would learn.

One day, she would see fire as the wondrous thing it was. The tool of her liberation. The light which cut away the impure and purged the world of the unworthy.

And he would be there to teach her.

The Pyro laughed maniacally for a few long minutes. Yes! Yes, he would...

He...

He completely lost his train of thought. Scratching his head, he refocused. He needed to get back to base... needed to talk to the Doctor about this...

And he really needed a snack. Dammit, he'd been out here for hours, and he forgot to pack a lunch. Again. Silently, he wondered how far a hike it was from here to Speedy's Rib Shack.

Jane Doe was in mid-rant, expounding on an adventure he had in the war that was 90% imagined and embellished, but the girl in front of him was held in rapt attention.

"...Machinegunners to my left! A panzer to my right! I was trapped like a rat in a frying pan, and all that I could do was load my trusty `zooka and hope to God, Buddha and Sun Wukong that I could take some of those Ratzi bastards out with me!"

"What did you do?" She was goggle-eyed as she sipped her lemonade through a bendy-straw. The Scout had shooed her out of the room when the horror movies had come on Saturday afternoon, thinking they'd be a little too scary for her. If he knew the stories she was listening to now...

"Well, that was when I got creative. I needed to get airborne, fast. If there was one thing they weren't prepared for, it was a bombing run. So with all the speed I could muster-"

"Oh, not this story again." The Heavy groaned as he walked into the kitchen, rummaging through the fridge. "You know every time you tell that story, you change what you were up against."

"Of course I do! The concussion I received from my first gloriously successful rocket-jump led to partial amnesia! With so many tracks, I was left to reconstruct multiple possible outcomes... and every one of them is a hoot!"

"Have you told her the one with the three elephants and the clown car yet?"

"Still your tongue, soldier! Never... EVER mention those things around a child!"

"What, ele-"

"The other ones!"

"...oh." He popped the top of a beer can, drinking slowly.

"What's wrong with clowns?" Nana frowned. "They're kind of silly, but-"

"EVIL! Clowns are evil given form and shape! They're-"

"And now you are going to go into the story of the Nazi Clown College and the Piemacht."

"...maybe!"

(More to come, of course... any requests for the next few chapters are welcome.)


	3. Another Day

Nana's New Life

Another Day

( Author's Note: Whoo! This one was a long time coming. Sorry for the holdup. I had a case of writer's block that was slowly killing me. It took _forcing out a novel_ to get me rolling again, but my momentum's back, so expect at least another chapter or three after this one. This one's for the guys on TVTropes, my fellow fa/tg/uys, and anyone who downloads a copy of my book, "Working On It", at Amazon! )

"Name?"

"Nana Conagher." The decision had been fairly straightforward; Dell had been the only one with both a home that was relatively out of the way, and a marriage under his belt.

"Welcome to BCJH, Miss Conagher. Your locker is 108." The receptionist handed her a combination lock and her class schedule with the warmth one normally associates with a cockroach. "Next." Nana scuttled to the side as the line advanced, clutching her backpack close. Sixth grade. She just hoped she was really ready...

-0-

The sparks told him that he had done something right; the static on the security monitors confirmed it. He tapped his mike twice, not speaking. There was no respawning here, no miraculous teleport-clone-whatsit to tear his consciousness from a dying body and slap it into a freshly-created one, and the tension was horrible. He spun around, lashing at the air with his bat every few seconds, terrified that the spy would sneak up on him.

Nothing. He remembered the plan well. With three minutes until he went back down the stairs, he hunkered down by the doorway, scattergun in hand, almost daring someone to find him.

Downstairs, a pair of grubby hands worked a pair of wires, twisting them in the doorknob. The deadbolt slowly turned - and the electronic lock shut off with the lights, only the dim emergency lighting remaining. Tavish nodded to his crew, and slipped the door open. Demo and soldier, medic and heavy, pyro and engineer all moved as one. The scout had killed the security systems; the spy and sniper were on the roof, and were responsible for the main power's cut.

Now it was their turn.

The plans they had stolen were accurate; the first three floors were mostly empty labs and storage space. A series of charges were placed in each room; according to the demoman, they'd be enough to send the facility sky-high. They were actually quite a bit more than advertised, but... well, there was no kill like overkill.

As they rounded the stairwell to the fourth floor, the sextet of mercenaries ran almost face-first into the first wave of opposition; a pair of security guards. One drew a nine millimeter, opening his mouth to scream - he was immediately silenced by an oversized fist smashing his skull into the ground; his stunned compatriot didn't have the time to move before he met the same fate. The heavy nodded his approval... and slipped aside, letting the explosives experts take the lead for the moment. He cracked his knuckles, wincing. His hands weren't what they used to be... sudden onset of calcification, bone spurs...

The remiander of the guard, and the few odd scientists that remained outside the central lab, were reduced to a fine red mist by a torrent of grenades and rockets. They were in. Subtlety went out the window.

-0-

Nana balanced a pencil on her nose as she listened intently to the teacher. She'd been over this already, but the refresher was good - and she didn't have to worry as much about getting a bad grade on the homework. She glanced idly to one side; one of her classmates was staring at her. At her horns. She gave a half-hearted, sheepish wave; the boy continued staring.

She took a deep breath. It was okay. She was a little different, that was all. Just a little different.

-0-

The door to the main lab was almost torn off its hinges as the Heavy burst in; it had been locked. He decided that he'd pick this one his way. Minigun spinning, he leveled the weapon at the room... and froze.

There he was. The svoloch who had hurt Nana, slumped back in a chair, a metal apparatus about his skull. He wasn't moving... or breathing. It was the engineer who walked forward, nudging his body with a wrench - and then caving his skull in with a single heavy blow. "Dead already."

"How?"

"Can't tell. Doc, get over h-" The walls of the room suddenly folded outward, revealing a nightmarish sight. Holding pens. Fifty tightly-packed, squalid cages; in each one was a small chair, to which was strapped a girl. A girl with horns. A girl with a strange, steel-and-wire cage about her skull. A girl who was screaming for the strange men to get away from her Papa.

-0-

Nana groaned, clutching her stomach. That was not pizza. That was not pizza at all. Why would the cafeteria lie like that? For a minute there was silence in the bathroom, and then a burst of giggling as a small squad of girls burst in.

"Did you see that hair? Someone needs to tell her that the whole punk thing is so last year."

"Ugh, Cindy, forget the hair! You saw those horns?"

"So? Girl's obviously got a thing for anime. She was homeschooled, right? She's gonna be a little weird."

"Cindy, wake up! Those weren't fake. She's not even a person, she's... one of those clone... things. The ones they found up in Russia."

"Wow."

"Yeah! I mean, where do they get off-"

"No, 'wow' as in, 'wow, that was way harsh.' Just `cause she's a clone and kind of a freak doesn't mean she's not a person."

"Okay, fine, she's a per-"

"Wait, she was homeschooled?"

"Well, yeah. You know that sushi place on the edge of town? I saw her studying there a few times. She's lived here for like two years."

"Ugh, that explains the fashion sense. Give her time, she'll-" The door squeaked shut. Nana stared off into space, blinking, and then clutched her gut again. What was wrong with her fashion sense...?

-0-

He squeezed out three more rounds, the helicopter crashing into a car park. That took care of half of the opposition. "Got a bead on the rest...?" He mumbled to the baclava-clad fellow next to him. He nodded.

"Soldier and medic behind the air conditioning unit there. I lost track of the-"

His words died in a grunt as he was struck from behind by a baseball bat. "Hell yes, you French piece of shit! You're not the only one that can sneak up on a mot-" The words ended in a yelp as two shots rang out, the spy's revolver leveled at the blue scout. For an instant, there was silence. The sniper let out a sigh, slipping further down the roof; he had his own problems to deal with, and he figured those two would be at it for a while yet.

The revolver was slid away, replaced by his blade. They would handle this like true gentlemen. With stupidity and violence.

-0-

Every time she tried to start a conversation with someone, they walked away. People stared, or they just ignored her. Even her teachers barely acknowledged that she was there. Nana sighed. Maybe tomorrow would be better. She slowly walked home, thankful that there was so little homework the first day. Maybe she'd have some time to relax.

Two boys buzzed by her on bikes, jeering at her. She didn't hear what they'd said - they whipped by too fast - but she didn't care. They were just jerks. Just like the rest of them. She sniffled - and then shoved the thought aside. Tomorrow would be better. It had to be!

It had been a hard two years, but things just kept getting better...

-0-

"Stay calm. This is a ruse to distract us from our mission. We must continue on course." Jane murmured through grit teeth, just audible to the tightly knit group of men."

"We can't kill them."

"We can't tell which one is him, either." Neural transmission. And now he was in a body that would eventually be able to tear people apart with telekinesis. They needed a plan. The pyro sighed, a muttered curse escaping his mask. He suddenly tore the rubber thing off, and with no small amount of melodrama, swiveled to face the cages, screaming, his burned, ruined face nightmarish, the remnants of his horns seeming to glow red in the stark light.

Every one of the faces he saw twisted in terror. Each but one. A face that had seemed afraid, still tear stained, instead wrenched itself upwards with rage and loathing - it had only lasted a second, but he caught it. Grinning, he walked forward with the pace one normally associated with a slasher movie villain, opening the door with a soft squeal. He was back to making his new body scream and thrash against the bonds. Cute. But ineffective. He'd already seen through it. The tiny body was slung over his shoulder. "Take the charges up."

"What?"

"Let `em find this place. It's time the world knew."

"And the girls...?"

"Leave `em for the cops." He walked out the door, upstairs, the figure across his back screaming and crying, still trying to pass himself off as one of his victims. Then he cracked, swearing and howling, and then berating the pyro. He took it all with the same smile, as he walked towards a very familiar place, a very familiar hatch in the wall...

-0-

The gunfire had attracted the attention of the police. It was almost time to go. The sniper whistled to his compatriot. The spy's basilong lashed out once more, catching the young man's fingers, slicing into them. He screamed, dropping the bat, and fell backwards. For a moment, he stood over the BLU scout, glaring at him... and then he gestured off, to the far side of the roof.

"Go."

"What? You piece o' shit! Don't have the balls to finish me off?" He was grunting the words through clenched teeth, leaking from a dozen stab wounds.

"Do you see a respawn engine here?" Silence. "No? Then leave." He flipped a Parliament into his mouth, lighting it. "There has been more than enough death here tonight... and your mother would never forgive me if I killed my own flesh and blood." For once the scout had no words. He tried to scramble for his scattergun, but his sliced fingers wouldn't contract, couldn't pull the trigger. The two men descended the stairs quickly, intent on getting the others out of there as fast as they could.

"Yer his dad?"

"Eh. Fifty-fifty chance."

"You're a bastard, you know that?"

"No, but he is."

-0-

Nana walked into the small house behind Crocikaze Sushi, the neon sign offering the best in Australian-Japanese fusion cuisine. Her adopted father was on the porch, leaning back in the old rocking chair.

"Had a good day?" He smiled at her evenly, his demeanor calm as ever. Nana ran through the events of the day in her head. Jerks at school _(Who were still willing to treat her like a person...)_, terrible cafeteria food _(That was still food...)_, no one really cared that she was there _(But no one was trying to kick her out...)_, a long walk home _(In peace, with no one hurting her, no one trying to do bad things to her, back to a home where she was loved...)_

"Pretty good, yeah." She beamed at him, and hopped up in his lap. They talked for a half an hour, and then headed in, Nana heading for her room to do her reading assignments.

Dell took one more look in on her before he returned to his projects for the evening. She finally had something like a normal life... he glanced at the note that had come in the mail today.

A terse note, written on BLU letterhead.

SIR

WE WILL BE COLLECTING MISSING PROPERTY SOON

REPOSESSION DEPARTMENT CONTACTED

DO NOT RESIST

Let them come. He had the home court advantage. And to keep her like this, he'd do anything.


End file.
